


take a load off

by pbandwhey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbandwhey/pseuds/pbandwhey
Summary: Tyson can’t pretend that he hasn’t noticed how much Gabe has been looking at him. He also can’t pretend that he hasn’t been looking back.





	take a load off

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized the title/summary make this sound a lot dirtier than it is. Disclaimer: this shit is tame.

Tyson leans forward, forearms braced on his thighs. He’s not – he doesn’t feel like sobbing or screaming or punching a wall, or anything like that, but still. Even with the energy from the crowd up until the very end, and even with the knowledge that they managed to push the President’s Trophy winners to six games, he’s still can’t muster up the energy for much more than a weak smile for his teammates right now.

He needs to get up, get showered, get dressed, but he doesn’t want to leave the locker room just yet. It seems like everyone else feels the same way, dawdling at their lockers for way longer than usual. Even Nate is taking his time, pretending to give a shit about how straight his jock is where it’s hung on its hook.

The prickling of cooling sweat eventually overrides Tyson’s desire to pretend like the season isn’t over yet, and he gets up, shucks his underarmor off and snags a towel on the way in to the showers. He considers keeping the water cold to wake himself up a little, but fuck it. It was a tough game; he wants to relax, unwind. He takes his time, more liberal with the soap and shampoo than he’d usually be after a game, letting himself drift.

By the time he turns the water off, there’s a different rotation of guys in the showers. Nate glances up at him as Tyson passes him on his way out and stretches his hand out for a fistbump.

Tyson laughs, but obliges. Nate grins back.

He makes sure to stop by Hammond’s stall. “Hey, bud. You did good tonight.”

Hammond shrugs. “I should’ve been better.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, man. The Preds were never gonna be easy.” He claps the side of Hammond’s shoulder, just to try and relax the stiffness he’s still holding in his shoulders. It works, but only a little.

“Fair enough.” Hammond breathes out through his mouth, un-stiffening a little more.

“Next season, Hamburgler,” Tyson says before walking away, and that gets a chuckle, at least.

His stall isn’t empty anymore – Gabe’s sitting there now, like he does when he wants to get on Tyson’s nerves, and Tyson sighs but he knows he’s failing to keep a grin off his face. “What do you want, Landesnerd?”

“Trying to make sure you’re not stealing my job,” Gabe responds, jerking his head towards Hammond. He lowers his voice. “Thank you, though.”

“Well, y’know. Since you’re too lazy.”

“Exactly,” Gabe says. He’s still smiling, that wide closed-mouth, eyes-crinkled smile that never fails to make Tyson feel like he’s been checked against the boards. Tyson tries to cover it up by shoving Gabe to the side, muttering something about his big head being in the way. Gabe laughs at him, but scoots over anyways, though not much.

He stays close while Tyson changes, and the proximity would be unsettling if Tyson hadn’t been naked in front of Gabe in the locker room a thousand times already. It’s Gabe’s stare that gets him; Tyson thinks he can feel it boring into his skin.

“What’s up?” Tyson asks when he’s finished dressing.

“I – well.” Gabe clears his throat. “Are you planning on going out tonight?”

“Maybe. Not for long, though. Why?”

“I want to go wherever you’re going,” Gabe says. Then – “I think we should talk.”

Tyson swallows.

It’s not a surprise, really. Things have felt different lately. They were always friends, it’s not like they weren’t close, but after last summer, Gabe had started orbiting closer and closer around Tyson, pushing into his space more than normal, texting him earlier in the morning and later at night. Tyson can’t pretend that he hasn’t noticed how much Gabe has been looking at him. He also can’t pretend that he hasn’t been looking back.

He plays dumb, though. “About what?”

Gabe gives him a look. “There’s no way you don’t know.”

Caught. “Yeah, okay,” Tyson says. He rubs the back of his neck. His skin feels too warm there, too. Are their teammates watching them right now?

Gabe’s still looking at him, gaze a little too intense. Yeah, there’s no way this is going unnoticed. “So can we talk tonight?”

Tyson nods. Gabe smiles. “I’m gonna go out with some of the guys. Captain duties,” Gabe says. “But, afterwards. My house?”

Tyson just nods again. He doesn’t really trust his voice not to crack right now. Gabe just nods back and stands up, finally giving Tyson some space. Tyson ignores the major side-eye he’s getting from EJ and starts pulling his shoes on.

He ends up going out with the same group as Gabe. He’s expecting Gabe to keep his distance. Instead, Gabe stays close the whole time, presses their legs together from thigh to knee without saying a single thing about it. Tyson’s mouth stays dry, even after two beers. The bar’s too warm, but he doesn’t move away from the heat of Gabe’s body.

Eventually, Gabe makes a show of checking his phone. “It’s getting late,” he says, loud enough to be heard over the din in the bar. “You guys gonna be okay without me?”

Nate scoffs. “Yeah, _Dad_ , we’ll be fine, geez.”

Gabe laughs. “Just checking.” He starts to wriggle out of the booth, bitching at Mikko to get out of the way, but not before squeezing Tyson’s knee, just briefly. Tyson wonders if it’d be too obvious if he followed Gabe out right now.

He stays for one more beer, though, lets himself get roped into an argument about Die Hard with Nate. His phone buzzes in his lap.

_Still down to talk?_

_Yes,_ Tyson texts back. He watches the three little bubbles pop up on Gabe’s end, then disappear, then pop up again.

_Soon?_

Tyson suppresses a grin. _you’re not very patient, are you?_

_Like you didn’t know._

Tyson looks up, makes sure no one’s paying attention to him, before he bends his head back down to text Gabe again. _Be honest. How much talking are we actually going to do?_

The bubbles pop up immediately. _oh my god. come over right now._

Well, then. Tyson starts to scoot out of the booth, too, not even bothering to feed the guys a line about being tired. He ignores the smirk on Nate’s face.

He speeds a little on his way to Gabe’s, but forces himself to take slow steps on his way up to his front door. He doesn’t even have to knock before Gabe’s opening it for him, stepping aside so Tyson can enter and toe his shoes off.

Then, Gabe’s pushing him, gentle but insistent, up against the wall. “Okay?”

Tyson answers him by leaning forward.

It’s different than Tyson imagined it would be. He’s never bothered to think about how Gabe’s beard would feel, scratchy against his jaw as he tilts his head for a better angle. He feels hot, oversensitive, and when Gabe starts to get more aggressive, starts biting, Tyson breaks. He grabs Gabe’s waist, tugs him closer. Gabe huffs out a laugh against Tyson’s mouth.

Tyson’s breathless by the time Gabe pulls back. “I take it this means we’re on the same page?” Gabe teases.

“Shut up,” Tyson mutters, before pulling Gabe in again.

***

Later that night, when they’re naked on Gabe’s stupidly huge bed and Gabe’s snoring into Tyson’s hair, Tyson hears his phone buzz on the floor where it’s still in his pants pocket. He thinks about getting up to get it, but Gabe’s arm tightens around him at that moment.

Tyson lets himself drift off with his head pillowed on Gabe’s chest. After all, he’s technically on vacation now. Whoever it is can wait.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a longer gabetys AU rn, but i wanted to bust this out as kind of a warmup. here's to next season!


End file.
